Viktuuri One-shot Collection
by LeMinaChan
Summary: Just a collection of various Viktuuri one-shots I came up with a while ago. These most likely won't follow the events of the series closely AT ALL, just random fluff or whatever, and probably sad attempts at humor. Yes, sad attempts indeed... #WorstSummaryEver Rated K-plus just because I never know what I write... :D
1. Table of Contents

**A/N Hullo there, my filthy human toilets! 'Tis I, Mina-chan!**

 **Ah, I have stumbled into the pit of hell commonly refered to as Yuri! on Ice hell. And honestly, I don't want out even a little bit.**

 **I need a yaoi anime Jesus. Badly.**

 **But sadly, one such entity does not exist, thus, here is my lovely Victuuri one-shot collection! I don't have an exact scheduele for when I will be uploading each part, they will mostly be put up whenever I get the time (school shizz and all of that fun stuff).**

 **Anyways, enough of me flapping my lips, here's the table of contents!**

* * *

 **1- [Into Your Skates]:** _In which the teacher becomes the student- literally._

 **2- [New Lenses]:** _Maybe taking Victor to get new glasses wasn't the best idea after all..._

 **3- [Da, Gaspodin]:** _A Russian Sebastian... you know, without the demon part._

 **4- [Yuuri's Demise]:** _Never let Viktor surf YouTube's music selection ever again. Especially the American music selection. Particularly from the 90's._

 **5- [Say "Ya Fyublyu Tebya"]:** _It's only fair that if Victor knows Japanese, that Yuuri would get a fair shot at speaking Russian._

 **6- [Strands of Midnight]:** Victor would never call himself a professional hairstylist, but he you say he's a professional at finding the beauty in Yuuri.

 **7- [A Decade Before]:** _What if Victor and Yuuri met much earlier on? What? I'm a sucker for childhood sweethearts 3_

 **8- [Two Dozen]:** _Victor gets the chance to celebrate Yuuri's 24th birthday with a bit of a...bang?_

 **9- [Such Eros]:** _Sometimes Victor just likes to randomly go try on clothes in tight changing rooms. (#ThatTotallyWasn'tA50%OffMaktotoRefrence)_

 **10- [Nothing Important]:** _Sometimes being bi-lingual can have it's perks._

 **11- [Work Into The Night]:** _We all know Yuuri pushes himself too hard. Viktor finally decides to stop him._

 **12- ["Bruise"]:** _A bruise, you say? Hmm..._

 **13- [Pillow Fights! On Ice]:** _Remind Yuuri never to suggest camping out at the Grand Prix skating rink before the competition ever again. (Viktuuri ofc and feat. all other Grand Prix finalists, Yuri Plisetsky, JJ Leroy, Phichit Chulanout, Christophe Giacometti, and Otabek Altin.)_

* * *

 **I promise, the first one-shot (AKA Into Your Skates) will be coming soon, I'm in the midst of finishing it and typing it up at the same time. Can't wait to post it ^~^**

 **Jk tbh it's a disastrous cliche that has been used in so many fanfics.**

 **But do I care? HELL THE F*CK NO! Smack that shizz onto my lol**

 **Okay, goodbye for real this time~!**

 **~Mina-chan**

 **P.S. Episode 11 made me cry real tears. Like ugly, leave-me-alone-in-my-Tamaki-mushroom-corner-while-I-complain-about-Yuuri-being-a-buzzkill-and-cry-while-eating-Eggo-waffle tears.**


	2. Part I: Into Your Skates

**1- [Into Your Skates]**

 _{In which the teacher becomes the student- literally.}_

~(^A^)~

* * *

For the past few months, Yuuri had been opening his nearly blind eyes in the morning to the same thing: his face nuzzled into the clothed chest of the person beside him, and their heavy arms draped around his torso, pinning him in his place on the bed. It was a situation he was embarrassed and uncomfortable with the first few times, when he had made the mistake of leaving his door unlocked just before he went to bed, but during the time he had spent in close proximity with his beloved coach, he had gotten used to the Russian's constant need for skin-ship between the two. So used to it, that Yuuri had started leaving his bedroom door open a crack, to save Victor the trouble of knocking on his door every night he wanted to "deepen their bonds" as his student. The same thing had happened just the night before, so when the young man unlidded his eyes, naturally he would expect the same result.

He blinked his eyes in confusion, however, when he realized that nothing was in fact blocking his vision this time, that he had a perfect view of the slight clutter left on the floor left from Victor and his "mandatory meeting" about Yuuri's next lessons late last night. That was odd, when him and Viktor fell asleep, Yuuri could have sworn that he was facing the window, where Victor would normally lay.

Curious, Yuuri investigates the situation, and quickly recognizes the heavy arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Sighing of relief, the young man raises his gaze, taking this moment as a chance to study Victor's features in deal. After all, Yuuri rarely woke up before Viktor did, and the rare times that it happened, those moments did not come easily.

His eyebrows find themselves furrowing once more as his eyes ascended up his bed-partner's body, as he realized that the frame of the other male was...smaller, than he remembered it being the last time Yuuri had woken up next to him. Now it was surely getting strange... There's no way he had some sort of amazing growth spurt in the middle of the night, and impossible for the great Viktor Nikrofov to have magically shrunk. Questioning exactly what had happened while he was dozed off, Yuuri's eyes continue their ascent up the lean biceps, to the slightly defined jawline, to the mob of tousled hair pressed to his upper chest.

Yuuri's eyes widen at the sight of the dark colored hair pressed against him. He blinks over and over in an attempt to wake himself up-unable to pinch his cheeks due to his arms being pinned at his sides- from whatever strange dream he was in. But to no avail, every time he opened his eyes and directed them to where Viktor was supposed to be resting on him, he found a mob of messy black hair that looked oddly similar to his own.

"Viktor, did you-" Yuuri shakes the person beside him to wake them, but stops mid-sentence as he heard the voice that fell from his lips... the voice he could recognize, and knew wasn't his. Yuuri licks his lips, his heartbeat accelerating at his newest discovery. This isn't scientifically possible... This had to be a dream, or some sort of well executed prank done by his family.

"Viktor, wake up." Yuuri ignores his new accent, shaking his coach's shoulder as hard as her could, calling his man with a panicked tone in his voice

Viktor, on the other hand, had been dreaming quite peacefully , tired from their sudden late night meeting in Yuuri's room, when he was suddenly shook awake by a voice he didn't recognize at first in his sleepy state. He registers that they had a Russian accent similar to his... but he was the only one in the Katsuki household that held that feature.

"Y-Yuuri?" Viktor grumbles in confusion, shifting a little in bed and constricting the person beside him in his arms. His eyes almost immediately flicker open, however, at the Japanese accent that he hears instead of the accent of his homeland of freezing Russia. Once he adjusted to the bright light barging in through the small window, he found that his face was buried into Yuuri's chest, a sleeping position they hadn't been in for quite some time, but either way Viktor didn't mind. The young coach raises his gaze up to where he assumed Yuuri's face would be...only to find his own eyes widening substantially at the icy blue eyes equally as wide as his, staring down in shock at him. _His_ blue eyes.

The first thing that Viktor thought was that Yuuri played a lame prank on him, by leaving a mirror in his place on the bed as he cackled off at the side. But as Viktor registered the body he was holding onto, quite tightly if he may add, he realized that couldn't possibly be the case. He was holding onto "himself". This can't be...

"V-Viktor?"

Viktor's internal doubt was answered, as his identical copy called his given name. However, through the heavy Russian accent, he could recognize the shaky, uncertain tone.

"Y...Yuuri?" The coach questions, finding his own Japanese tongue strange. "Is...this a dream?"

"I thought it was. Are you sure that's you, Viktor?" Yuuri answers, blinking a few more times at the unbelievable sight before him. _He was having a conversation with himself._

"I'm pretty sure, I think..." Viktor murmurs back, finally sliding his arms from around the other's waist and sitting up in the bed, inspecting his own body. The Russian had felt as if he had suddenly shrunk, and noticed that his vision was close to shit when it came to seeing anything at least 3 feet in front of him. "We couldn't have...that kind of stuff only happens in the movies..."

Yuuri, appearing as Viktor, rolls over Viktor's body to get out of bed, and heads over to his desk in the other corner of the room. He slides open the drawer on the left and pulls out a small forest green compact mirror gifted to him by his older sister Mari for his performance makeup. Opening it up, Yuuri's eyes widen at the bright blue eyes that stare back at him. The man suddenly screams, the small mirror falling from his hands as he reaches up to feel his face, stunned by the image that had reflected back at him in the round mirror.

"Oh no." Viktor, appearing as Yuuri, groans, still in bed, and hits the back of his head into the wall, and peers over at Yuuri with his warm chocolate brown eyes. "It seems we've swapped bodies.

Yuuri screams again, and it seems completely new and strange for Viktor, to see his own face contorted in panicked fear.

"Shh, your family is sleeping." Viktor hushes Yuuri, and finally stands from bed, stretching out his arms over his head. He then scans the bedside table, picking up Yuuri's glasses the resided there, and resting them on his own nose. Viktor could finally see clearly, able to see all of his own face in detail. It still spooked the Russian man that he was inside his pupil's body, but a rush of excitement and danger overcame that.

"Yuuri." Viktor calls out to the shaking man crouched on the floor, and takes a hesitant step towards him. "We need to calm down and figure out what the heck is going on."

" _Calm down?"_ Yuuri asks in disbelief, giving Viktor the most frightened expression he had ever seen on his own face. "How could I possibly _calm down_?! _I'm in your body,_ Viktor. There's a huge gap between your personality and mine, so if someone finds us like this-!"

Yuuri is cut off by Viktor rushing over and slapping his hand over Yuuri's mouth, and the Russian kneels in front of Yuuri, and his brown eyes bore into the Japanese man.

" _Shh!_ Maybe is you'd be _quiet,_ we can fix this before anyone wakes up." Viktor whispers, then tiptoes over towards the door with Yuuri following closely behind. Before grabbing the doorknob, Viktor pushes Yuuri's glasses up on his nose, and turns towards Yuuri with his signature Nikiforov smirk. "But don't you think it would be fun? Pretending to be each other for a day..." Viktor pauses for a few moments, his eyes closed with a sweet smile on his face, before he opening them again and looked directly at Yuuri. "That would be a good test of our relationship as a pupil and his coach, hmm?"

"I...suppose." Yuuri says after a beat of silence, and looks away as soon as Viktor turns away to swing open the door, and the two exit Yuuri's room.

' _If I had a normal coach.'_ Yuuri adds onto his response inside his head. ' _Not when my coach is the amazing record-breaking, repetitive gold-winning Viktor Nikiforov!'_

"Yuuri." Viktor beckons Yuuri out of his thoughts, the Russian man in his small Japanese body crouched by the kitchen entrance. He waves a hand towards him in s motion to come towards him, as he whispers his idea. "We did share that pork cutlet bowl for dinner, instead of having separate bowls like we usually would. But, could something as simple as that be the cause?"

"It's a good idea as any." Yuuri almost immediately slips past him into the kitchen, for once grateful that it was his turn to wake up early to make the family breakfast. Yuuri scans the kitchen counters, only to find them clean with no trace of last night's dinner, besides the several dishes in the drying rack. "What are we supposed to do? It's not like we can make a reverse katsudon that will switch us back. There has to be another solution..." Yuuri spins on his heels and meets Viktor's intense stare, but it was as if his bronw eyes bore through his body as the Russian was deep in thought.

"Was it... something to do with our meeting in your room last night?" Viktor finally questions out loud, scratching his chin as he looks onto Yuuri for answers.

"But we've done that all the time, we always have a few meets right before we start composing another choreography. What would have made this time different?" Yuuri responds, furrowing his eyebrows and scratching his noticabely thin, silvery/gray hair.

Viktor's brown eyes widen after a few beats of silence, the color that had existed in his cheeks completely drained from his face in a matter of seconds. Yuuri, noticing this strange change in attitude, turns his attention onto Viktor, who refused to look back at him.

"What?" Yuuri asks out of curiosity, peeking at his Japanese face as he took a hesitant step forward, itching with the need to be in his own body again.

"Last night..." Viktor barely murmurs loud enough for Yuuri to hear, running a hand though his tousled dark hair. "I brought champagne while adventuring in town after dinner for a while. To celebrate another skating season..."

"But I've had champagne before." Yuuri states, tilting his head back to look at the ceiling, processing this new information. Suddenly, realization dawns on him, and Yuuri whips his gaze back towards Viktor, who was still hanging around in the kitchen doorway, and hadn't entered yet. "Oh no. What did I do?! I know that I got drunk, and I always go off the rails like my- oh god, this time it had to have been worse than the banquet tragedy! I didn't even think it could get worse than that! I am so s-"

"Shh, Yuuri." Viktor cuts Yuuri's apology short, not moving from his place in the doorway. "We both got a little tipsy, sure, but you didn't do anything _that_ weird. Matter of fact, I think it may have been me that got us into this mess..."

"V-Viktor? _You?_ " Yuuri gasps in disbelief, and takes another hesitant step forward. "Wha-what did you do?"

"Hmm." Viktor seems to ignore Yuuri's question, and turns away from him, facing the wall opposite of the kitchen entrance. "Who would have thought a simple makeout session would do so much damage?"

Yuuri blanks.

"M-m...Viktor!" Yuuri stutters, his eyes wider than they were before. "Wha-why would you let me do such a vile thing! I'm sorr-"

"Yuuri." Viktor cuts the Japanese man off once more, but in a much more stern tone. In contrast, Viktor turns around, and gives Yuuri his best seductive smirk. "You know, I think I know how to fix this."

It takes a few moments for Yuuri to think about it, and suddenly the pieces click, and Yuuri squeals, taking a few steps backward until he hits the kitchen sink.

"Wha-hey! Whoa, V-Viktor! WAI-"

* * *

 **Ah, how I love ending with cliffhangers. It pisses my readers off, and fills me with joy.**

 **Lmao I'm kidding, I hate cliffhangers, but I think you guys can guess what happened after that ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)**

 **Up next is [2] New Lenses, so be sure to watch for an update!**

 **Until next time, my filthy human toilets~!**

 **~Mina-chan**


	3. Part II: New Lenses

**A/N Just a note there will be a bit of Russian being spoken. I ask that you do not use Google Translate or any other translator if you do not read or speak Russian fluently. Google Translate sucks balls. If you do know Russian fluently, I ask that you PM me to make sure the phrases I have in here are correctly translated.**

 **Either way, all of it will be translated by the end to avoid the confusion Google Translate often causes. Patience, children, please.**

 **Thank you!**

P.S. I have left a few references... namely one is from a game, and the other is from a popular anime/manga...

* * *

 **2 - [New Lenses]**

 _{Maybe taking Victor with him to pick up his new frames wasn't the worst idea after all.}_

~(^A^)~

"U-um, Victor, do you _really_ need to come with me?"

"Of course!" The Russian coach catches up to Yuuri, who was eagarlly trying to escape out the front door of his parent's onsen house. "It's practically my job as your coach! We need to deepen our bonds as a teacher and his pupil, so we can perform at our upmost best!"

"I...uh, sure. I mean-you can come, but I'm only picking up my new frames, there's not much for us to really bond over." Yuuri stutters, sliding open the front door and stepping out into the cold, waiting for Victor to follow behind. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, of course I'm sure! I want to expirience Yuuri's lacking social skills!" Victor nearly jumps out of the house and onto the snow-covered concrete, already marching down the path towards the small car that was waiting at the end.

"Y-You don't have to phrase it like that…" Yuuri barely mumurs, following the bouncy European towards the cab he had called for about an hour ago. "I do have _some_ social skills, I'm not as bad as I was last year."

"Mmhmmhmmhmmm." Victor slightly chuckles, then spins on his heel halfways down the path and meets Yuuri's eyes, sticking up his index finger as he deadpans. "That's a lie."

"Wha-S-So what? That still doesn't give you an excuse to be mean about it. I just… h-haven't gotten out as much as most people my age."

"That's the understatement of the year."

"W-Would you please stop it?!" Yuuri finally counters and crosses his arms, suddenly feeling cold by a chilly breeze that manages to wiggle inside the sleeves of his jacket. "I just want to get my new frames, and get home as soon as possible. It's not a fun shopping spree or any sightseeing, so this is your last chance to ditch."

Yuuri steps forward and around Victor, taking a hold of the cab door and swinging it open, motioning inside with his other hand. "So what? Are you finally going to leave, or are you coming?"

* * *

"To JINS, please." Yuuri murmurs to the cab driver as he climbs in, and the man nods, switching the sign to 'Occupied', and waits for Yuuri to shut the door before he pulls away from the onsen bath house.

Yuuri sighs, and dives into his back pocket for his phone, knowing it was going to be at least a 45-minute drive, even without traffic to get there. With Hasetsu as it is, it is way too unpopulated and JINS is the closest glasses shop that sell glasses Yuuri could afford. The blue glasses he used to wear, now tucked in his pocket due to being accidentally broken, were purchased in America when he had been training with his ex-rinkmate Phichit. Now that he had returned to Japan, the young skater now had limited access to shops that had what he was looking for.

Yuuri opens his Instagram, knowing he'll find entertainment from looking through his closest friends' photos.

"Yuuri, are you stalking my Instagram?"

The dark-haired man nearly jumps in his seat at the voice that blows hot ear millimeters away from his ear, and he leans away a little to look at the culprit responsible.

"No, I'm just looking for a source of entertainment." He responds after calming down, leaning back into his original position, just hairs short of leaning on the Russian's shoulder. "We're going to be in here for a while, and you and Phichit are very active on social media. I don't have any games except for LOLOL, which I need to wait for the update to finish downloading before I can play, which takes almost an hour and a half."

"I'm here, Yuuri! We could play a game!" The Russian scoots closer to the Japanese man, causing his head to rest on Victor's shoulder. "Like I Spy, or we could arm wrestle-"

"We'd need a flat surface to arm wrestle, Victor. And I'm pretty sure you'd win." Yuuri cuts him off, still scrolling thorugh his feed, and liking nearly all the photos that he encountered of Phichit's, Victors, and surprisingly Yurio and Chris'. "We could play some game together on Facebook or something, or you could sleep if you'd like. I don't mind, I'll wake you up."

"I just woke up from a nap before we left, so I'm not tired." Viktor declares like a pouty child, and peeks over Yuuri's shoulder as he continues to busy himself with liking Instagram images from the last Grand Prix banquet. His blue eyes watch Yuuri as he giggles at the dance-off pictures posted by Phichit, something he, Viktor and Chris claimed to have been a tradition in the making. This time Viktor managed to steer the Japanese away from the champagne table, but that didn't stop him from taking a few flutes from the traveling waitors walking back and forth, which resulted in a repeat of last year's dance competition. The only difference, was that Viktor did not allow Yuuri to compete with Chris again on the pole the Swiss man had set up for them.

"Yuuri!" Viktor tries to steer Yuuri's attention away from his phone, shaking the latter's shoulder slightly until his brown eyes meet his. "Let's play with the new Snapchat functions! My favorite one right now is the flower crown, but-"

"Sorry, Viktor, but not right now. Phichit keeps posting pictures of Yurio and Otabek in the hallway of the hotel, and I'm trying to convince him to take them down before Yurio sees them."

"Oh…" Viktor leans back a little, and thinks about the situation before speaking again. "Well-"

"You two remind me of my wife and I when we were young."

Victor and Yuuri pause their discussion, and blink a few times in confusion at the new voice that had abruptly joined their conversation . It was Yuuri that looked up, and noticed the pair of dark brown eyes peering at the both of them in the rea r-view mirror. Victor notices Yuuri staring, and follows his line of gaze, eventually smiling at the kind cab driver.

The man behind the wheel was a slightly older gentleman with a thin balding mob of gray and white hairs. He was dressed snug against the cold in a forest green coat and black furry earmuffs, black gloves on the hands that held onto to the steering wheel. The wrinkles in his cheeks deepen as he smiles back at Victor, evidence that he was an overall happy man. He had a monocle perched over one eye, something you'd see on a Victorian butler. Yuuri feels like he's seen this face before, in a photo or book he read online or something, but cannot seem to recall where from.

"When me and my wife got married almost 50 years ago, we'd bicker over stupid and pointless topics." The skinny old man laughs, his cheeks growing a tinge pink as he chuckles. "Hell, we still do the same thing now. It's as if neither of us have changed since we met, but oh I still love her just as much."

"That's sweet." Yuuri's kind smile grows into a warm one, as if he could see the two elderly lovers embracing in his head. "But, how could we resemble of the two of you?"

The cab driver smiles to himself, as if he knew something they didn't.

"Just an old man's intuition, but from what I've noticed you two are closer than friends." He then directs his gaze to Victor, and his tone grows quiet and serious, almost speaking directly to the Russian man, even though the English words he used included the both of them. "Make sure you hold onto each other. Виктор, пребывание рядом с ним. Не оставляйте. Он нуждается в тебе больше, чем он будет говорить."

He murmurs the rest in Russian, his brown eyes concentrated on Victor, almost peering into his blue orbs, searching for a reaction. Victor abruptly nods in response, and responds firmly. "Я никогда не оставлю его. Yuuri мой драгоценный свиная котлета чаша."

Yuuri raises an eyebrow at his Russian coach beside him, curious as to what the driver had said to him, and just as curious about his coach's response as Yuuri had heard his own name. Victor, however, pretends to ignore his Japanese student, and waits for Tanaka to give a sign of approval before he lets out a sigh of relief.

"My name is Tanaka, by the way." The old man looks back at Yuuri in the rear-view mirror, then returns his gaze to the snow covered road in front of him. "Feel free to request my cab at anytime."

"T-Thank you!" Yuuri exclaims excitedly, not even noticing that throughout their conversation, they had already arrived at their destination: a flashy glasses shop with the illuminated name 'RINS' labeled outside the door. "I-If you don't mind, could you wait outside for us and drive us back to the onsen? We'll only be a few minutes! I'm picking up my new glasses."

Tanaka pulls over to the curb, and after making a full stop, pivots around in his seat to look Yuuri in the eye with a kind smile. "Sure thing, Yuuri. I'll be right out here for when you are finished."

It wasn't until Yuuri and Victor had stepped out of the cab after paying, and they were headed inside RINS when Yuuri realized: _When did Tanaka learn my name?_

Inside the shop, the bell above the door chimes as they walk in, and someone yells a weak 'Welcome!' from behind the counter in the back.

"What did Tanaka say to you?" Yuuri immediately asks Victor, curiosity getting the better of him. Tanaka was a strange gent, but he was warm and happy nevertheless, like a favorite grandfather you'd want to see all the time.

Victor lightly holds his chin between his index finger and thumb, looking down onto Yuuri's sparkling eyes trained on him, obviously looking for an answer.

"Oh, nothing important. Just told me to be careful about walking around, 'cause it's slippery from the snow. Let's get your glasses and get back home, mmh?"

Right on cue, a short young woman rushes out from behind the counter, and makes her way over to the two men standing in the doorway. She has a navy blue polo shirt and khaki pants with her ID clipped to the front pocket, a black hoodie on over the dark blue work uniform. There are parts of her almost white bangs peeking out from behind the large hood, which she pushes away with her middle finger as she reaches the two.

"Welcome, Yuuri!" She cheers, holding her hands behind her back in a formal pose. "I hope you didn't have any trouble getting all the way out here. My name is Minami, I actually make the frames and insert the glass into them in the back. We're a little short on staff because of the weather and traffic, so I'll be checking your glasses out today."

"Oh, thank you." Yuuri's eyes last on her steely silver eyes and white hair, finding both features very odd. Minami slightly chuckles to herself, used to people's strange first impressions of her. That's why she stayed in the backroom. Oh well, there was no helping it, she couldn't stop business because of her self consciousness.

"You ordered the black Astor frames, correct?" Minami leads the two men over to the counter, where she slides across the surface to get to the other side, and feels for the sand-colored tray with finished glasses in them.

"Ah, yes, I think so. Sorry, I'm not very familiar with brand names. I just chose the ones I liked." Yuuri scratches his chin in embarrassment, and Minami laughs.

"No biggie, no one ever is. I wasn't until I got the jo- Oh! Here they are." She fishes the small container out, and inside there is a black pair of glasses that look similar to the blue ones he broke, along with a few moist toilette for cleaning the lens, a black case, and the billing information. "You paid when you came here to choose your glasses, so here you go! You and your boyfriend have a great day!"

"Thank you- err, but h-he's not my-"

"Thank you, Minami!" Victor cuts Yuuri's protest off, slinging his arm around the latter's shoulders and ushering him out of the glasses shop as quick as possible. "Try them on!"

"Victor!" Yuuri ignores Victor's command, turning to him with flamed cheeks and a confused expression. "Why did you do that?"

Victor tilts his head to the side slightly in confusion, genuinly not understanding what Yuuri meant. "What ever do you mean?" The Russian didn't think he did anything wrong, he didn't flaunt the golden ring on his finger like he did last time he went shopping with Yuuri.

"Now she thinks we're i-in _that_ kind of r-relationship." Yuuri barely manages to get the words out loud enough for Victor to hear, who furrows his eyebrows once more, and slips his fingers out of the brown leather glove on his right hand. The Russian man reaches out for Yuuri's bare hand that held the other half of the pair of accessories, and the golden rings clink quietly as Victor perfectly fits his fingers between Yuuri's, and leans down to kiss where their knuckles met.

"We are engaged, are we not? I have done nothing wrong, Yuuri. Did you forget?" Victor murmurs against their knuckles, his grip on Yuuri's hand tightening slightly. Yuuri can't take his eyes off of their matching rings sparkling from the snow's reflection, and he can't decide if the redness in his skin is from the cold for from embarassment. The latter was a stronger possibility, as the Japanese man felt so warm, so very hot from the kiss on his hand.

Yuuri struggles to swallow against his dry throat, and feels a lump form as he risks looking up into Victor's icy clear blue eyes, which were trained on his brown ones, seeming to soak in every detail of Yuuri they could hold. "I- um, n-no. I'd never... R-rather, I t-thought I told you they were...g-good luck charms..."

Victor watches Yuuri for a long while, before sighing and tugging on their joined hands upwards to rest on his chest and their bodies flushed against each other, not taking his eyes away from Yuuri's until his head rests on his shoulder. Yuuri's eyes widen as he feels the thumping of Viktor's heart against his hands, their racing pulses almost matching.

"You want to know what Tanaka said to me, Yuuri?" He finally murmurs quietly into Yuuri's ear, who feels a shiver run down his spine and can't do anything but weakly nod. "Tanaka told me, _Victor, stay with him. Do not leave. He needs you more than he would say._ "

The Japanese man lays his head down on Viktor's chest, feeling his head spin as he tries to focus on the cold breath on the nape of his neck, and the soft voice whispered into his ear. Yuuri takes a moment to swallow, then asks in a weak voice: "T-Then...what did you say?"

Viktor chuckles to himself for a few seconds, and plants a chaste kiss at the place where his ear connects to his neck, then whispers back: "I answered _Я никогда не оставлю его. Yuuri мой драгоценный свиная котлета чаша._ **I will never leave him. Yuuri is my precious pork cutlet bowl.** "

* * *

 **A/N I apologize for the sort-of abrupt ending! I seriously had no idea how to end this XD I hope I can make it up to you guys in the next one!**

 **The next one is** **3- [Da, Gaspodin]:** _A Russian Sebastian... you know, without the demon part._

 **I'll see you all whenever!**

 **~Mina-chan**


	4. Part III: Da, Gospodin

A/N: Hullo again, my filthy human toilets! It's been a while, hasn't it? I've been suffering the worst case of writer's block for the past couple months or so, ironically a couple weeks before YOI came out. Still haven't updated any of my original books… So here I am. Please enjoy! ~Mina

* * *

 **[Da, Gaspodin]**

 _A Russian Sebastian, but, you know, without the demon part…_

~(^A^)~

"Rise and shine, _Господин(Gaspodin)_!"

Yuuri stirs in his sleep at the loud, clear voice that disturbs the previous quiet atmosphere. Rolling over onto his side, facing away from the intruding voice, Yuuri snuggles into the pillow underneath him and attempts to fall back into his deep slumber.

Until the curtain covering the window is whisked away, allowing beams of yellow tinted sun rays to cast themselves across Yuuri's body, and unfortunately right into his eyes. Blinking against the powerful light, Yuuri grudgingly holds a hand up to shade his eyes, quickly finding the dark clad figure standing beside his bed. As Yuuri continues his slow process of waking up, the aroma of sweet-smelling tea finds its way up Yuuri's nostrils, calming him of whatever anger existed within him caused by his early wake.

"Good morning, _Господин(Gaspodin)_. Beautiful day it is today, hmm?" The figure towering above him sets the tray holding the white and golden china set on the bedside table, then gently grasps Yuuri's shoulders, sitting him up to lean against the wall behind him.

"Hmm?" Yuuri asks sleepily, rubbing his right eye with the back of his hand while he watches the man reach over him for the tray, carefully pouring the lovely smelling tea into a cup, then holding it out for Yuuri to take. Yuuri takes it without question, and takes a small sip, the taste of honey, milk, and green leaves bursting into his mouth.

"We've got a lot to work on today, so it would be best if you finished quickly so you can get dressed and begin your busy day, Master."

Yuuri finally pauses mid-sip, and furrows his eyebrows at the strange lingo used by the man clad in black.

"Sorry, did… something happen while I was sleeping?" Yuuri lowers the cup from his lips, and finally looks up at the polite man, who had turned towards him after Yuuri had asked the question.

"Whatever do you mean?" Bright blue eyes bat in amusement at the quick morph of facial expressions on the Japanese man's face. First it was a bored look, since he had just woken up, then it changed to a look of pure confusion, then to embarrassment. The dialogue that matched all three visuals made it even more enjoyable.

"Oh, Viktor...hmm, Viktor?...Wait wha- V-Viktor!"

Yuuri gapes at the Russian man in front of him, dressed in a full black butler tailcoat, complete with lustrous golden buttons and a golden chain leading to what he could only assume was a pocket watch to match. His silver fringe is slicked back with gel, leaving only a single stubborn hair that hung in front of his eyes.

"Is something the matter, _Yangu masutā_? Do you need me to wait a few minutes outside before we begin dressing you?"

Yuuri's eyes widen, and he quickly places the cup in his hand down onto the bedside table to his right.

"N-Nien nien nien nien nien!" He accidentally calls out in German, waving his hands back and forth in both alarm and to stop the man clad in black as he started towards the door left open a crack. Viktor pauses mid-stride at Yuuri's distressed call, and turns back towards him.

"What's going on? Why're you dressed like that?" Yuuri asks after a few beats of pregnant silence, scooting a little to the side of his bed so he could swing his legs over and sit fully up, now completely awake due to this unpredictable occurrence.

"Well, Master," Viktor adjusts the white cloth on his arm, and takes a few steps closer towards Yuuri's bedside, until he stops when his knees hit the bed frame. "Just for today, I will be your personal butler. The theme of your next project is a royalty, no? It is my duty to make sure you feel the environment of being pampered nonstop, so that you can capture the ideal image of a fine, sophisticated yet spoiled aristocrat."

Yuuri studies Viktor as he thoroughly explains his appearance, and finally the young man draws a conclusion, smirking slightly as he replies. "Are you sure it isn't so that I can eat as much as I want, then tomorrow you'll make me do twice the workout to burn it all back off?"

Viktor smiles back, confirming Yuuri's suspicions by baring blinding white teeth. "Possibly."

Yuuri awkwardly laughs, reaching behind his head and scratching his charcoal-colored bedhead. "Well, then... What was this 'busy day' you were talking about?

* * *

It's warm. Yuuri notes as he takes a large step outside the front door, and takes in a large breath of the mid-spring air.

"Gospodin!" The Japanese man hears from inside the house, the hollow floor thumping to the beat as the Russian man runs towards him from inside. As Viktor reaches Yuuri, he sighs of relief, and holds up a thick black material- the blanket Yuuri always keeps on the sofa for whenever he got cold.

"Put this on! We don't want your beautiful skin to be soiled by the filthy outside air!" He shouts excitedly, inching closer towards Yuuri as to wrap it around his shoulders. Yuuri, however, dodges Viktor's attack, and huffs.

"It's warm outside, Viktor. It's too hot to wear a blanket like that. I'm fine with the air, too, I go outside everyday. Let's just go to the rink and get our training over wi-"

"How could you say such a thing?!" Viktor cuts Yuuri off, circling his body like a vulture circles its prey. "For the harsh sun and disgusting bacteria in the air to contaminate your fair, porcelain skin- Unthinkable! Simply unthinkable!"

Yuuri's eye twitches slightly in annoyance, and once again steps out of Viktor's reach once he tries to capture him inside blanket again.

"Viktor! I'm fine!" Yuuri tries to assure his temporary butler, jumping out of the way as Viktor throws the blanket in his direction. "Let's just go!"

"But-"

"I'm the master, right?" Yuuri steps towards him, and stares him square in the eye. There's a few seconds of thick silence, and Viktor's blue eyes widen down at his temporary master. Yuuri never acted like this. Yuuri had never even raised his voice at Viktor once; but here he is, his chocolate brown eyes glaring up at him in mild anger and annoyance. Viktor's Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows, and then finally nods in response to Yuuri's question. "Then you have to listen to my orders. Let's go, now."

Viktor finds himself involuntarily nodding along, even as Yuuri takes several steps away from him, taking orders from his master such as a classic Victorian butler would-

Like a dog.

"Yuuri!" Viktor quickly shakes off the trance Yuuri had put him in, nearly chasing the shorter of the two down the pathway towards the cab Viktor had thankfully called before hand. The Russian man dashes in front of Yuuri just before he could reach for the handle and opens the car door for him, gesturing inside with a sweep of his left hand. "Please, take a seat."

Yuuri stares at Viktor for a few seconds, flabbergasted, before smirking and awkwardly chuckling for a couple seconds. "Smooth, Nikiforov." Yuuri teases, clambering inside to the back seat of the cab instead of protesting like he would have a few seconds ago.

Viktor lightly coughs into his fist to rid of the jitters this new Yuuri gave him, and brushes off the shoulders of his very expensive tailcoat before climbing in after him and shutting the door.

"Katsuki Yuuri-san?" The cab driver calls back to the two after the door was firmly shut, his thick American-Boston accent slurring his Japanese, so it took a moment for the two to understand him.

"Yes, that's me." Yuuri answers in fluent English, and the cab driver raises his eyebrows as the Japanese man spoke his-assumably- native language back to him. "I understand my butler here has already paid and directed the location?"

A shiver runs down Viktor's spine as Yuuri refers to him as simply 'my butler'. Ever since the Russian had started his own busy and delightful career as a professional figure skater, he had always been referred to as if he were on the highest pedestal. Mr. Viktor Nikiforov. Five repeat gold-winning champion. King of the Ice. Viktor Nikiforov: The Child Prodigy. Number one attractive bachelor. An idol, a role model. The list of great nicknames never seemed to end.

However, being just Yuuri's butler… Viktor never knew that being degraded would give him such a quick rush of excitement.

"Yessir." The American cab-driver nods in understanding, turning back towards the wheel and pulling the lever out of park, beginning to slowly roll away from the curb.

"Here's your schedule for the day, Gospodin;" Viktor turns towards Yuuri to his left, pulling a small flip-book from his inside tailcoat pocket. "We mustn't waste any time, and must finish our tasks by noon. First at 6:30 a.m. we have practice until 7:30, from there we go to L'Etoile at 7: 34 a.m., where we are meeting with a potential sponsor to negotiate payments, then at 8:00 a.m. we need to go shopping for a new wardrobe- the suit you decided to wear to this year's banquet was absolutely atrocious, then at 8:47 we must meet Yuri and Otabek at the airport, as we are hosting them in Japan for the weekend, we'll all have lunch at Paul's Pel'meni downtown around noon, and finally we head back to your parent's and stay there for the day. Any questions?"

"Not… that I know of…" Yuuri returns to his normal timid personality, turning his head to stare out the window to his right. Viktor pouts to himself a bit as he shoves his little notepad back into his inner pocket, as he had wished that Yuuri had continued to embrace his spoiled, conceited, confident self. The spoiled prince caricature was forming.

"Eros." Viktor barely murmurs to himself, covering his mouth with his white gloved hands, a precaution so that Yuuri wouldn't hear him. The Russian turns his head towards the clear window, but instead of watching the cars pass by around them, he closes his eyes and focuses on the scene that had occurred outside of the Katsuki family inn just moments ago.

'I'm the master, right? Then you have to listen to my orders.'

Viktor's mind quickly wanders back to a year ago, the first time he and Yuuri had worked together on a routine: In Regards to Love: Eros. Sexual love. 'Yes,' Viktor chimed to himself in his head. 'Eros' fits Yuuri quite nicely.'

Suddenly, something clicked in the Russian man's head, and his eyes snapped open, widening in unexpected realization. He could see the story unraveling in his head then. It was different from the playboy from Eros… The prince that moved with serene grace, held his chin up to others who didn't deserve his compassion, turned from those who weren't worthy of his attention, put himself above-

"Viktor?"

Yuuri's voice startles the Russian butler out of his thoughts, the image of a classy, pristine and cold prince fading from his sight, and quickly replaced by the warm chocolate brown eyes of the passenger beside him, leaning towards him with his eyebrows pressed together in worry. Viktor lets out a shallow sigh at smiles in Yuuri's direction, a silent message reading 'I'm fine, don't worry."

It takes a few moments for the expression of worry to clear from the young master's face, but even when it does, there is still a lingering feeling of disbelief. Viktor was generally a very happy, excited, and involved-in-more-ways-than-one man. Unlike himself, Viktor rarely spaced out- and Yuuri found out the hard way that when he does, it usually was something to worry about; it could be a good or a bad thing.

"What's bugging you, Viktor?" He finally decides to ask, and in response, Viktor's thin eyebrows raise in surprise. Yuuri fidgets under his intense stare, and he begins wondering who exactly were the butler and master in this situation. He finally decides to surrender, and he lets his chocolate brown eyes fall down to his lap, where his fingers slowly weave in and out around one another, something he only did when he was anxious and nervous.

"Hmm." Viktor hums a bit to himself, happily basking in the peaceful aura emitting from Yuuri as he turns to look outside the car window like before. "I'll tell you later."

* * *

After the usual morning practice, the meeting with Yuuri's potential sponsor went horribly wrong in every possible way that a formal dinner could. First, the greeter at the front of the semi-fancy restaurant didn't seem too keen on letting someone dressed as Yuuri was inside, and begrudgingly led them to their seats. Then she just so happened to spill hot coffee all over his front as she was heading towards another table, which she muttered something that was far from an apology in response for. Then, nervous and jittery in front of such a professional businessman, Yuuri accidentally spit his drink out all over the suited man, which Yuuri couldn't seem to stop apologizing for. After they had all finished eating and were preparing to leave, Yuuri remembered that he didn't have his wallet, and the sponsor representative had to pay for the both of them. By the end, the man was furious. However, Viktor pushed through with his charming skills and no less than perfect record as a world champion to get Yuuri the best deal he could.

Wardrobe shopping didn't go over well, either. It seemed that Viktor's and Yuuri's taste in clothing were more different than he originally thought they were. Viktor favored bowties and vests over a dress shirt on Yuuri, while Yuuri often drifted over towards the full clad suits and admired the details on the inside. Eventually, they almost left the store without buying anything, before Viktor's eyes caught a suit hanging behind the register, and Yuuri approved of once directed towards it. But, not before the cashier looked Yuuri up and down with a pitying look, as if he looked too poor to be able to pay for a suit like that. Unfortunately, the rude cashier was right, as the younger of the two hung his head in shame as Viktor happily passed over his credit card.

Now, the two had a little over twenty minutes before they had to go pick up Yurio and Otabek from the airport, and Yuuri was jittering in his seat, hoping this didn't go as horribly as the past two appointments had, all the while knowing how Yurio patronized and taunted him when he had stayed in England to train with them last summer. Viktor watched from the other side of the white airport cafeteria table as Yuuri's bouncing leg shook the small tabletop and rattled the stand against the floor. While his leg was bouncing from his overactive nerves, Yuuri had plunged his face into his hands since the moment they sat down, and Viktor continuously honed his ears toward him to reassure that he wasn't crying.

'Well, this isn't the dignified, spoiled aristocrat from before in the least.' Viktor can't help but joke in his head, resting his chin in his palm with his elbow propped up on the small table in an attempt to keep it in place. At realization of the sudden heavy weight on the surface, Yuuri finally realizes that his leg had been jumping out of control like an earthquake, and lifts his foot to sit on the chair, hugging his left thigh to his chest to stop it.

"Gospodin." Viktor finally speaks up after a while with a sigh, running a hand down the side of his face in mild frustration. "If you're worried about hosting Yurio and Otabek becoming a failure, I assure you, I can handle-"

"That's the problem!" Yuuri shouts into his hands, wiping away a few angry tears before Viktor saw them. "You can always handle anything thrown at you without any effort! Viktor, I'm not an amicable international sensation like you are. I can't swoon anyone with just a smile, I can't buy whatever I want with a flick of a wrist, I can't talk to professionals as if I know what I'm doing, and I certainly can't attract anyone who would possibly have a romantic interest in a mess like myself. I can't, Viktor. I can't be like you."

"That's not the point!"

The brunette suddenly freezes at the response to his complaint, and for a few moments he swears he had forgotten how to breathe. Yuuri slowly raises his head, and is shocked into freezing again to lock eyes with a pair of narrowed, angry cerulean eyes pointed in his direction. Viktor never got angry like that- he never dared to look at him like that before.

"You're not supposed to be like me." He continues on, this time in a more calm, stern tone rather than an angry one. "I understand that this is hard and frustrating- I know more than anyone how that feels. The man royalty that you are looking for deep down inside of yourself isn't like me. What I'm trying to do is help you find it, not discourage you from trying."

Yuuri finds himself lowering his head to look back down at his trembling hands, feeling as if he were a child being scolded. That is until he hear's Viktor's clear, coaxing voice that feels like a warm embrace of forgiveness.

"Yuuri. Look up at me."

Slowly raising his head once more to meet Viktor's eyes, the Japanese man can't help but let a small smirk form on his lips, as he gazes upon the Russian's formal Victorian butler uniform. "Look at you, giving orders, I thought I was the master here."

Viktor gives a small smile back, and reaches across the table to grip one of Yuuri's hands in his, and gives it a little squeeze. "That's better, Gospodin."

"Ugh, really? Gross, can't you ever stop touching each other for even five minutes?"

While Viktor blinks in confusion of the strange response, while Yuuri turns his head to the right and smiles warmly. Viktor does the same, and realizes it hadn't been Yuuri who had spoken, but whoever had stepped up beside them.

"Nice to see you again too, Yurio. Welcome to Japan, Otabek."

"Thank you." Otabek answers stiffly with a straight face, looking down at Yuuri and Viktor's joined hands on the tabletop. The two had just flown in from Russia where Yurio was hosting Otabek, so Yuuri understood that it was strange to see any form of PDA, romantic or not, between the same gender so suddenly.

"Whatever, piggy." Yurio plops himself down into a chair between the two sitting down, and runs a hand through his now long blonde hair. He kicks his feet up onto the small tabletop, probably not accidently kicking the two's joined hands as he continued to bark like an angry chihuahua."I'm tired as hell- had to leave St. Petersburg at three in the morning. And I'm hungry. You could stop wasting your time and get me some goddamn food someplace."

"Yura-" Otabek was about to scold Yuri for his rude language towards the person hosting him in his home country, before he is cut off with an unexpected reply.

"I won't take orders from a measly boy such as yourself. Unlike you, I'm spending precious time that I could spend working on my program to host you here, and I'd appreciate it if you'd either wash your filthy mouth out with soap and take the next flight back the hell to Moscow, or shut it and let me deal with it."

For a moment far too long, the area in the vicinity of the tiny white table becomes deadly silent, except the slow breathing of all four, and the quick tap against the tabletop as Yuuri bumps his leg against the stand, crossing his legs to the side of the small plastic seat.

"Y-Yuuri?"

Yuuri's chocolate eyes dart over to where Viktor sits across from him, but instead of a warm chocolate brown, they're cold.

"I don't recall giving you permission to address me by my first name, Viktor, but I suppose I can forgive you this one time. I can assure you, I am quite alright." Yuuri retracts his hand from Viktor's on the table top, and holds his hand in front of his face as he inspects his nails. After finding nothing under his fingernails, he huffs on them, and rubs them against the side of his thigh.

"What the hell just happened? Who are you, and what the fuck have you done with Yuuri?" Yurio demands, standing from his seat and leaning into Yuuri's personal space. Instead of retreating down into his seat and reclining in fear, Yuuri pauses his little manicure, and his eyes dart up to Yurio's green ones, his eyes unnaturally narrowing menacingly. This definitely was not Yuuri.

"You're too close."

"Oi! I asked you a question, asshole! Your name!" Instead of recoiling, Yurio flares up more, and their faces are only inches apart as Yurio sneers and nearly sticks his pointy nose into Yuuri's face. In response, Yuuri retrieves a napkin from his pocket, and covers his hand with it to push Yurio's chest away from his own.

"Yuuri Katsuki, of course, you very well know my name."

"Yu- Master, Gospodin." Viktor finally stands from his seat, pulling Yurio away from the table and pushes him into Otabek who had been standing silently shocked behind him the entire time.

"Viktor." Yuuri folds the napkin in his hand into fourths, and then holds the cheap papery material out towards his butler. "Take care of this. We have a busy day ahead of us, and I'd rather get started right away than get some strange Russian bug from this child."

"Hey! I can hear you, you a-!"

Yurio's protests are cut off as Otabek finally grabs him from behind, and covers his flapping mouth with a large hand.

Viktor stands in a daze, gazing down at the beauty of which Yuuri created. This wasn't what he had imagined, no… but it was Yuuri. It's was a part of him no one imagined existed. This was Yuuri's royalty. Yuuri's aristocrat.

"Viktor! Are you deaf?" Yuuri demands, standing from his seat and inspecting his butler's face. Viktor can barely hear his master's shouts, as he gazes down into his eyes. Strangely, and ever so slowly, a grin creeps onto Viktor's lips, followed by a full blown toothy smile that is hairs away from him plainly baring his teeth at him.

"Da, I heard you."

Yuuri scoffs, and turns away from his butler, at the same time he shoves the napkin he used to push Yurio away into his gloved hand. "You're a fool, Nikiforov. One may think you're a masochist, smiling after being scolded. Never mind that, let's get this over with, shall we?"

Viktor's blinding smile doesn't fade as he presses a gloved hand to his chest, and swoops his head down in a formal bow. "Da, Gospodin."


End file.
